Five Sentence Fiction: Tears

What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction.

I wrote two this time after struggling to find point of entry and I decided to publish them both. One feels a little incomplete.

Tears #1…or The Dust Miner’s Daughter

Two figures stood on the look-out platform of the Company mining post near the Eagle Nebula.

The smaller, a girl, leaned into the glass and pressed her face against its coldness while the burly figure, an old dust miner, shifted his weight and cleared his throat several occasions, clearly unaccustomed to the company of teenage girls, especially the weepy sort.

Her tear stained face glowed in the blue tail-light of the comet that was slowly disappearing behind the giant columns and, though some part of her knew it wasn’t really possible, she thought that if she stared long enough at that one spot where he disappeared, she might catch a glimpse of his special red suit, or even his harness, weaving back and forth through the dust and gas.

“Er, you couldn’t really do nothin’ about that, none of us could,” the miner interrupted her concentration, “I mean, your old man, he’d get that glassy-eyed look whenever one o’ them comets was about, even before you was born he was like that.”

She nodded, grudgingly, because deep inside she knew she never stood a chance competing for her father’s love with a thing as old and as breathtakingly terrible as a comet –she just couldn’t compete at all.

Tears #2: Ms. Lenora Chase

Lenora Chase tossed her canary yellow shoulder bag on to the purple velveteen loveseat in her apartment and made a beeline for her 3rd Gen W.I.L.L. O 5 box and the bottle of Hennessey on her large dining room table.

Reaching inside the box for the nuero-interface halo, she ignored the instructions for adjusting the emo-drainage dial, turning it all the way up to 10.

It had been that type of day, what with the scene with Kevin her married boss, and the new younger, curvier, and very eager intern, the one the other girls called red lips and mega tits and the cool way Kevin dismissed the whole thing.

Ignoring the warnings on the manual against drinking and oversetting the halo, Lenora downed the contents of her glass, pressed the fully charged halo on to her temple and stretched out on her cherry pink couch.

Tomorrow, if she woke up, when they looked at her they would see her mascara intact and they would know that she is Lenora Chase and she cries for no one.

Ooh, 2 for 1. Very nice and both so different. I feel for the daughter who can’t compete with a comet and I love the Lenora Chase one (such a cool name). She reminds me of a very sad, lonley but beautiful figure that has it all on the outside but inside, has nothing. . . .I imagined Marilyn Monroe as I read. . . .